


Wicked

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [16]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: (sort of), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Public Blow Jobs, Switching, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: While out shopping for the things they'll need in their new house, Reyja and Julian are their typical exhibitionist selves.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Public

“Hey Jul, what about this one?” I hold up the corner of a gray blanket, fuzzy and soft. “For the new bed?”

Julian turns and, to my relief, drops the gaudy yellow quilt he’d been inspecting. He crosses the weaver’s stall to my side and snakes his arms around my waist, grinning. “Marvelous, darling. Is that mukhayyar?”

The look on my face seems to answer for me, because I have no idea what it is. He reaches for the edge of the blanket himself and rubs the fibers between his fingers.

“Ah, it is! Silky yet strong. Absolutely perfect for us, my dear.” He kisses the side of my head just above my ear. “It should last awhile too.”

“Even with the way we treat bedding?” I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

Despite his wide, confident smile, I can see the blood rising to his cheeks. “I’ve heard mukhayyar fiber is, ahhh, easy to remove stains from.”

“Oh, good,” I say nonchalantly. “That should come in handy.”

He clears his throat, aiming for subtlety and falling far short, but I don’t give in to the plea in his eyes. We’ve been out and about all morning, shopping for the things we’ll need when we move into our new house next week, and I can’t say that I’ve been very nice to him, dropping obvious double-entendres and flirtatious comments like that into almost every conversation we have but refusing to acknowledge when he volleys them back. He’s so adorable when he’s flustered, sometimes I just can’t help myself. I’ll pay him back though, tenfold, and he knows it, which only makes the anticipation sizzling between us all the sweeter.

“Right. Erm. Shall we, then?” he stammers when the lull stretches a beat too long. I nod pleasantly and fold the blanket over my arm, then adjust it as though one end were in danger of trailing on the filthy ground. If anyone were to look, the combination of Julian’s cape and our newest acquisition would prevent them from seeing any goings-on below his waist, provided something of interest were to happen there.

The stall attendant, probably the weaver’s apprentice judging by the strands of yarn shot through her long black braid, gives us a closed-mouth smile when we approach her at the front of the stall.

“Good morning, Helene!” Julian says brightly, offering her a jaunty wave with the hand that isn’t holding me close to his side. “How’s business?”

“And to you, Dr. Devorak,” she replies. Her voice is soft but rich, the faintest hint of an accent hiding beneath its dulcet tones. “Many have come through so far, though it’s nearly afternoon now, is it not?”

He glances at the sun, barely visible in the overcast sky. “Ah, so it is. We should think about lunch soon, shouldn’t we, love?”

Now seems as good a time as any to make him squirm. I take the opportunity to slide my other hand onto his ass, giving what little flesh he has there a firm squeeze. He jumps, as I expect him to, and the blush that had receded into his skin flares to life again, redoubled. When he looks down at me, his pupils already expanding with arousal, I grin innocently.

“Okay, Juley. If you’re hungry, I could eat.”

His mouth opens and closes several times before he can find the right words in the right language and put them in the right order. I’m sure I complicate matters enormously by pushing my fingers into the cleft between his cheeks, rubbing his sensitive asshole over his close-fitting trousers.

“Ravenous,” he finally gasps, hanging on tightly to what dignity he has left. “Yes, I— I think we must… we must find a, a, a place to food. Eat! Eat food! After this. A nice, quiet, hrrmm—ah!”

Oh, he’s so cute. And Helene is so confused. If she only knows him as suave, confident Dr. Devorak, then who is this stuttering mess? Her large brown eyes shift from him to me to the blanket in my arms.

“The mukhayyar?” She nods, relieved to be in familiar territory. “An excellent find. The fiber was shorn from Madam Vehrilie’s own goats. She will be satisfied to hear it goes to a respectable home.”

It takes every ounce of control I have to keep a straight face. Oh, yes, we’re very respectable, my partner the doctor and I. I don’t currently have my hand up his ass or anything. And we’re not at all planning to do debaucherous things on this blanket, no ma’am. We’re just your average, normal, everyday Vesuvian couple, out buying average, normal, everyday Vesuvian products. I channel my amusement into what I hope reads as a harmless smile.

“That will be, hmm…” As she ducks beneath the counter to check a price list, I release the pressure I’ve been putting on Julian’s asshole and he trembles, moaning as quietly as he can.

“Oh, darling, you’re wicked,” he breathes at me, drawing close to my ear like we’re discussing payment options or restaurants to go to for lunch.

“You like me when I’m wicked.”

He shifts just enough for his erection to brush against my side. “I _love_ you when you’re wicked,” he growls.

“…ten gold. But for you, Doctor, since I know Madam Vehrilie would want it after how you helped her with her knee, let us call it eight.”

“A bargain at twice the price!” Julian fishes in his inside pocket for his coin purse as I hand over the blanket for Helene to fold and wrap carefully in paper. She turns away to a back table to tie up the package and I wind my arms around Julian’s slender waist while he counts out the money, stacking each gold piece neatly: time to crank things up.

“You’re getting so hard, Jujubee,” I murmur, trailing one hand down his hip. “Don’t you think she’ll notice? Don’t you think the whole market will see you throbbing in your pants?”

He shudders and the coins clatter across the table, sent rolling by an errant twitch of his long fingers. “Reyja…”

I cup him and his cock strains to meet me. “Mmm, I like that. So hot and eager. Can you drip for me, ‘Bee? Make a little cumstain so everyone knows just how much you want me?”

“Darling, please, I— I can’t…”

“You won’t be able to wait until we get home, will you? You need to feel me on your cock right now, right here, where anyone could walk by and see us. Don’t you?”

He as much as slams the last piece of gold down, startling both me and Helene. She whirls around with our half-wrapped blanket clutched to her chest and peers curiously at Julian, whose face is red as a cherry, as he leans towards her with both hands planted on the counter, curled into fists.

“So very sorry, Helene, but I’ve just remembered a… an exceedingly pressing, very important engagement my partner and I simply must attend. It’s urgent and, ah, well, we’ll have to order that brilliant blanket to go, I’m afraid. Do give my regards to Phyllis. I’ll have to, have to drop by sometime, see how she is. She’ll adore Reyja, she really will.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “This is Reyja, by the way. I love her, and— oof!”

I step on his foot to stop his babbling. Helene, poor woman, wordlessly hands me the partially open package when I reach for it. “It was nice to meet you, Helene. I would apologize for him but, y’know.” I shrug, not sorry at all. “He’s been very busy. Thanks so much!”

As we walk away, I pass the blanket to Julian. “You better not use that to cover yourself up,” I tell him. He whimpers in response, screwing his eyes shut. When I look, I see that he has indeed leaked enough precum to make a dark spot on the fabric of his trousers. “Let people gape at that beautiful bulge of yours.”

He follows obediently where I lead, down row after row of stalls. By the time we near the massive paired columns that mark the entry to the market square, he’s wound tightly enough that I wonder if he’ll cum untouched in his pants.

“Aww, you did well for me, Juley. Did you like that, being on parade?” I pull him into an embrace, grinding his crotch against my belly and kneading his ass.

“M'hm.” He’s so turned on, he can barely speak and his eyes are hazy and heavy-lidded when they focus on me. “Need you, Rey.”

“You need me? How do you need me, lovely?”

He touches my cheek, drawing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Your mouth.”

“You want me to suck you off?”

“P-please?”

Looking around, I catch sight of the twin pillar closest to us. It’s more than wide enough to conceal a quick blowjob. Probably. At this point, though, I almost want to get caught. Julian’s so desperate for me he might not even notice the interruption.

“Okay. Over here.”

He moans when I take his hand and tug him into the shade of the marble tower. I make quick work of the knots in his belt and sash as soon as we slip behind it and I’m settled on my knees between his legs, wincing at the hard stone. Even in his current state, he notices my quick intake of breath and passes me the paper-wrapped parcel he’s been carrying. His thighs are shaking with arousal and still he thinks of me. What a guy. And the blanket’s already paying for itself in usefulness!

I don’t make him wait any longer than he already has after I get comfortable. He’s gripping the wall behind him, sliding down the stones, by the time I fish his cock out and slide my lips over it, the tang of precum sharp against my tongue. Never one to keep his mouth shut, he keens the moment he feels me, heedless of the bustle of market-goers just beyond the intangible slant of shadow hiding us from them, until I pull away and remind him.

“You deserve this, ‘Bee. Let them hear you. Let them all hear how good this makes you feel.”

I take him deeper and deeper. I can’t quite swallow him completely without gagging when he’s this hard, but I can get close. His fingers twine in my hair, never pushing or pulling, just along for the ride as I bob around his cock. All the while he pants and groans, grunts my name and swears to the sky, a constant stream of pleasure sounds. He tastes so good, musky and salty even from the little he’s released so far, I can’t help but add some moans of my own.

He stiffens when I rub my thumb over his testicles, kneading his sac in my palm while I scratch lines down his hip with my other hand. My nails are sharp enough to break skin if I push hard and the tiny drops of blood that bead up in my wake are what finally drive him over the edge. His balls contract against his shaft and he cums hard, with a loud, piercing cry, holding my head in his hands to stop me from pulling back. He delivers so much hot, thick spend onto my tongue that I have to swallow before he’s finished to take it all.

But if anyone heard him, and I’m sure they did, they’re either too shy or too used to it to bother us. Julian comes down in his own time, first sagging against the wall then doubled over, leaning on my shoulders as his own rise and fall with his ragged breaths. I give his cock a few languid strokes before he starts to soften. By the time he can speak again, my hands are resting on his, our fingers meshed, and I’ve tucked him back into his trousers and dried up the precum that soaked into them.

“Oh, darling…”

I look up into his eyes.

“It’s my turn to be wicked now.”


	2. Clothed Sex

The city passes in a blur as Julian hauls me back to the South End. When his desire overtakes him, he finds the closest surface and pins me to it, his mouth almost frantic against mine, his hands tugging hard at the roots of my hair. I’m breathless from more than exertion by the time we cross the district boundary, caught in his whirlwind.

His tiny bachelor’s quarters, stark and monastic with most of his belongings above the shop or scattered around his office at the clinic, end up being closer than even our new house: a kitchenette, a cramped living area barely large enough to fit a desk and a squashed armchair, and a narrow single bed in a side room Julian can span with his arms outstretched. I’ve only been here once before, when I came with him to collect the things he wanted to bring over to the shop. Echoes of his loneliness seemed etched into the peeling paint and faded curtains, and I understood immediately why he roamed at night rather than stay here. But now, when he nearly kicks the door open and half-carries me across the threshold, his attention focused solely on sucking bruises into the side of my neck, I feel only sharp pulses of passion, spiking through the scent of stale coffee and unwashed clothing as surely as they pierce me.

“Oh, how you tease,” he hisses, not for the first time, though his words are muffled with his lips against me, pressed so close I can feel the vibration of his vocal chords. “You’re determined to have us known as degenerates throughout all of Vesuvia, aren’t you, my moonbeam?”

He cradles me, one hand plunged into my leggings to cup my ass skin-to-skin. The bite of his fingernails in my flesh has words twisting almost beyond my reach. “Aren’t we though?” I manage to gasp.

Low, dark, hungry, his answering chuckle stokes the flames within me. “Worst of the bunch, I fear.” His tongue slips into my mouth as he shifts his other hand to the nape of my neck, lifting me into the kiss.

I respond eagerly, grabbing his lapels to deepen our joining even further. He’s intoxicating like this and I would happily drink him in until I no longer could, if he’d let me.

He always lets me.

“Fuck me, Julian,” I whisper, my lips gleaming with his saliva and my own when we part. I lick it up and reach out to scratch my nails softly down the side of his face.

“Oh, say it again, my darling! Ask me again!”

From the way his grip tightens on my ass and in my hair, and how his legs are trembling with suppressed tension, I think he might be interested.

“I want you to fuck me, Juley. I don’t care how, I just need to feel you. Please let me feel you!”

He kisses me once more, rougher, sloppier, taking his hand from my pants to guide us towards the heavy desk. In his strong embrace, surrounded by the scent of him and the sound of his racing heart, sent careening out of control because I, and only I, drive him to such lengths, my own heart swells with love.

He groans aloud, pulling me flush to him, our bodies melded. “Feel how, how hard you’ve made me now, beautiful,” he pants, rubbing himself against my hip. “Oh, I long for you. My every thought is consumed by you, Reyja, my love.” With a shaky sigh, he nuzzles the top of my head and adjusts his arms around my shoulders, holding me tighter. “Were I to do nothing but please you, put my fingers, my tongue, my cock to work for you for the rest of our days, I would consider it a life spent in paradise.”

I’m the perfect height to palm him through his trousers with my face pressed against his chest. He feels like iron, burning hot, most assuredly ready for me. More than anything, I wish there was a way we could live his fantasy.

But we’ll have to make do with what we have.

I pull him down for another feverish kiss and grind my hips against his, tormenting him with my closeness. He grunts into my mouth and his hands flutter as he pushes me back just far enough to free himself for the second time this morning, his erection so stiff he has to lower his pants to mid-thigh before it springs back, slapping against the smooth leather of his jacket.

Before I can act, he spins me around and folds me over, pinning my hands to the surface of the desk while thrusting weakly at my still-clothed sex. “Do you know how much I thought about you while seated in this very room?” he whispers, lips on the shell of my ear. His hands move to my waist as he repositions his feet. “How often I pictured doing exactly this, while I stroked myself, and spilled—” A sharp intake of breath and I feel his teeth graze my shoulder. When he speaks again, his voice is ragged. “Back when I knew, or thought I knew, that we could never be… oh, what I would have given to fuck you then, Rey. To make love to you like you ought to have been loved.”

I drop to my elbows and spread myself wider. “Please, Juley!” I can’t help the whimper in my words. The teasing push and recede of his cock along the cleft of my ass is too much. “Spill for me now. Make up for all the time we lost!”

Julian gives a strangled moan and rips my leggings down as far as he can in one smooth motion. I feel the heat of his bare thighs against mine and shudder in delight. He slides his slender fingers between my legs and into my dripping cunt without resistance, rutting against me until he can no longer stand the buildup. When his gorgeous tapered cockhead follows close behind the withdrawal of his hand to finally push inside me, I have to bite my wrist to stifle the whine of pleasure I release.

He doesn’t wait to start fucking me in earnest. Any technique he might have developed over the years is abandoned as he loses himself, driving his hips against the plump cushion of my ass, but it doesn’t matter. Soon neither of us can hold back. The desk slams into the wall with his every thrust, surely alerting his former neighbors, but I would have him take me in front of the Devil himself if it felt this good. The curve of his cock fits me perfectly in this position, sliding against the exact spot I need him to hit.

Despite that, he cums before I do, shouting wordlessly. I can feel the tickle of overflowed spend ribboning down the back of one thigh as he continues to thrust and I tumble after him into the ecstasy, my vision blurring. I’m sure I squeal in the height of it; I know I break a nail clawing at the grain of the desk.

Before Julian can even catch his breath, he’s leaning over me, arms wrapped around my belly. He peppers the back of my neck and shoulders with kisses but I can feel him shaking, and the splash of a teardrop against my skin doesn’t surprise me, nor does the sniffle that follows.

“Oh, I love you, darling. I love you more than I ever knew someone could love,” he chokes out, punctuating his words with kisses. “I was a fool not to tell you how much before I lost you, and a blessed, blessed man the day I found you again. Oh, Reyja…”

He lets himself cry, still sheathed within me. I’m happy to bear his weight until he recovers enough to pull away and smile blearily, an apology already building on his lips.

“I love you too, Juley,” I say quickly, cutting him off and turning around to take both of his hands in mine. “You’ve been holding onto that pain for so many years…” I kiss some of the tears from his cheek. “Thank you for letting it out.”

“I’ve loved you for such a long time, my dearest. To have you in my arms, to realize that I will wake up to you every morning, to hear you and feel you and— and to know that you love me too?” He shakes his head. “I understand now, why I told the Hanged Man to take my memories of you in exchange for the cure. You, what I had of you… it was the most valuable thing I had to offer.”

Staring at him, my own eyes start to well up. I gather him into a close embrace and, after a moment, work his coat off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

“What are you doing, love?”

“Undressing you.” I sniffle before smiling, the beginnings of an idea swirling in my head. “For the rest of the day, this can be our little paradise.”


End file.
